No Rest For The Wicked
by GoodnightTinyHumans
Summary: Season 3 AU. Sam and Dean meet someone surprising while trying to figure out how to keep Dean alive.


It was a cold, clear February day, and Sam and Dean Winchester were doing what they did best: driving down an otherwise empty highway with Sam trying to do some reading while Dean howled along with AC/DC.

"Yeah you… shook me all night long!" Dean turned and grinned at his younger brother. "I love this song!"

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes, trying to put his focus back on devas, but gave up five minutes later when his cell phone started to buzz in his pocket. He tossed the book into the back seat and pulled the cell phone out, noticing that "BOBBY" was flashing across the screen. He tapped Dean on the shoulder and pointed at the phone, and the older Winchester grudgingly turned the music down.

"Hey Bobby, what's up?"

"Where are you?"

"Umm… not far from you; we're in Minneapolis. We only left a few hours ago, Bobby…" Sam was surprised by the tone in Bobby's voice; he was normally gruff, but never quite this harsh unless he was worried about something.

"I need you to go somewhere for me. You're closer than I am. Here're your directions." Sam scrambled for a pen and paper as Bobby barked directions over the phone and Dean quizzically raised an eyebrow at him. Sam shrugged back and mouthed I have no idea what's going on at him.

"Okay… Dean, we're heading for Silver Lake. You want to take the next left and keep going until we hit the highway. Bobby, can you tell me what's going on, now?"

"It's my… well…" Bobby hesitated. "When I first got into hunting, I had a friend who helped me out when I had no idea what I was doing. Taught me most of what I know. He has a daughter who's in the business too, Alison. Her mom died when she was a baby, and I helped raise her. She's my goddaughter and I haven't heard from her in a week, and then just now I got a call from their number, that all I could hear on the other end is static and yelling. I tried hanging up and calling them back, but there was no answer. I'm leaving right now, but you have a couple hours on me and you can get there sooner than I can."

"Okay, Bobby. We're on our way; we'll let you know as soon as we get there." Sam heard a click in his ear as Bobby hung up.

"So what's he freaking out about, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"His goddaughter, I guess. Alison. He hadn't heard from her in a while and then he got a call that was all static and yelling in the background. We're about an hour away, so we're going to go check it out and make sure she's okay."

"Is she a hunter?"

"Based on what Bobby said, yeah."

"Then how do we know she needs saving? We are so totally going to walk in there, guns blazing, and have some random chick laugh in our faces," Dean grumbled.

"How often have we needed help, Dean?" Sam reminded him. "Just because you're a hunter doesn't mean that you can take down anything you want without help. If she's fine, then we just tell her Bobby sent us and that he's on his way to visit because he was worried. It won't be a big deal, and it's not like we had anything except a non-violent haunting on our plates anyway."

"Yeah, yeah, fine. I hope she's hot."

"Dean-" Sam started to protest, but Dean had reached over and cranked up the volume again.

"We're just listening to the rock that's giving too much noise…"

* * *

An hour later, Dean pulled the Impala in front of a small white house. The brothers sat and stared at it: it looked more like the American dream house than somewhere a hunter lived, with nicely kept siding, a white picket fence, and a tidy little flower garden in front.

"You're sure this is the place, Sammy?"

"Don't call me Sammy," Sam said absently as he picked up the page of directions. "Yup, 1787 Gehlen Drive. Let's go." Sam opened the glove compartment and pulled out the two pistols they had stashed there earlier, handing one to Dean. The brothers got out of the car and walked silently up the path to the front door. Dean raised his hand to knock, but the door was unlatched, and swung open as soon as he touched it.

Sam carefully pushed the door open.

"Alison?" he called. "Are you here?" There was no answer. Sam nodded at Dean, and they quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind them.

Sam walked down the hall. He peered in a couple doors as they walked down the hall. "There's nothing here." Dean nodded and walked back out the door. Sam turned back and continued down the hall.

Suddenly, the door to his left burst open, and a girl stepped out, holding a pistol. She levelled it at Sam's head, and as she stepped further into the light, he could see that her eyes were completely black.

"Alison, I presume? Well, sort of." Sam observed. The demon-Alison cocked her head and smiled at him.

"What was your first clue, Winchester?"

"Oh, I dunno, maybe the fact that your eyes-" Alison wiggled the gun that she held in his face.

"That's what we like to call a rhetorical question, Sammy. That means you don't answer, you shut up, because little Alison here is holding a gun to your face." Sam held his hands up in surrender. "What an honour. Sam Winchester. I finally have the good luck to get a hot little number like this to possess, and a gorgeous, well-known man like you comes to my rescue. It's such a pity you won't be leaving in one piece."

"Wrong, bitch." From Sam's left, a small wave of holy water was sent flying from a bottle held by Dean. Alison let out a blood-curdling scream as the water hit her face, and dropped the gun to the ground to cover her face. As soon as it was out of her grasp, Sam pushed her face-first against the wall.

"Dean, come on, quickly!" Sam shouted. Dean pulled a set of handcuffs out of his jacket pocket and shrugged when Sam gave him a questioning look.

"What? They come in handy sometimes, man," he said with a chuckle. Sam rolled his eyes and pulled Alison's hands together so Dean could fasten them with the handcuffs. Together, they pulled her up and pulled her into the kitchen, settling her roughly on a chair. She hunched over, her long red hair falling in a curtain over her face, growling. Dean sat behind her and held her in place as Sam placed a hand on her head and began reciting an exorcism rite. Alison threw her head back, her eyes flashed open and her body started to shake as the spell began to take hold.

"You will regret this, Winchesters," she hissed.

"Don't count on it!" Dean called out as Sam finished the rite. A cloud of black smoke flew from Alison's mouth and she slumped forward. After a moment, she straightened up with a gasp, and when she looked back up at Sam, her eyes were a bright, clear blue. Sam nodded to Dean, who uncuffed her, and Alison threw herself at Sam with a sob.

"Thank you!" she cried into his shoulder. Sam wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the incredulous look Dean gave him.

"It's alright, Alison. You're fine. We got you."

"She was planning such terrible things," Alison told them, pulling back from Sam and wiping her eyes. "All kinds of… I don't even know. She was going to use me to do the worst things I can even imagine."

"Are there any more here, Alison? Was it just the one demon?"

"Yes."

"Go get cleaned up," Sam told her. "You'll feel better and then we'll figure out what we need to do, okay?"

Alison nodded, smiled weakly at Dean, and walked toward the door. She turned back on her way out. "Make yourselves comfortable, I'll be back in a few minutes to make some coffee."

* * *

"Man, I dunno, this Alison chick is something else!" Dean whispered to Sam. They were sitting at Alison's kitchen table while she ran upstairs to clean up.

"What do you mean, Dean?" Sam asked with a sigh. He knew what was coming before it even came out of Dean's mouth, but he had to ask anyway.

"Are you kidding? She's hot. And we rescued her; you know how women repay men who rescue them." Sam could only watch as the familiar oh-hey-hot-chick grin grew across his brother's face. "And a redhead…man, redheads are awesome."

"Dean, just… just shut up, okay? She's clearly been through a lot, and she's Bobby's goddaughter. Don't be an idiot."

"Okay, okay…" Dean held up his hands in surrender. "I guess Bobby is one person that I wouldn't want to piss off."

"Now, why are you talking about pissing off Bobby?" Alison asked as she came through the kitchen door. She had changed out of her torn clothes and tied her hair up in a high ponytail.

"Well, we'd never do anything like that on purpose," Dean answered, flashing a Dean Winchester bad-boy grin in her direction. Alison smiled back, and busied herself making coffee for the three of them. Sam caught Dean eyeing her several times, and had to resist the urge to smack the grin off his face every time. Maybe it was just because he had helped save her, but he was feeling protective of Alison; maybe it was because she was Bobby's goddaughter. Either way, he knew how Dean acted towards women, and he didn't want that to happen to her. He looked up and gave her a small smile as she set cups of coffee down in front of him and Dean.

"So what happened?" Dean asked her as she sat down with her own cup. She curled up on her chair, tucking her feet under her.

"I don't really remember," she admitted. "My dad's been gone for a couple weeks. I went to check something out for a friend of mine; it turned out to be nothing, just a stray cat, but she was pretty freaked out. I started driving home, and after that, I don't remember a thing for a while. Then I woke up, but I couldn't control my body at all. She was in charge."

Suddenly, the front door crashed open.

"Alison!" Bobby yelled.

"In here, Uncle Bobby!" Alison called back with a laugh. He raced down the hall and lifted Alison up from her chair in a big hug.

"You're safe, what the hell happened? Where's your dad? Do you know how worried I was?"

"I know, Uncle Bobby. I'm sorry. Dad's on a trip, he's been checking in. I got possessed on my way home a couple days ago and Sam and Dean just rescued me." Alison flinched as Bobby let out a string of curses.

"Damnit, kid, I gave you one of those charms to wear!"

"I took it off before a shower and I forgot to put it back on because my best friend called me in tears over how scared she was!" Alison said defensively. "Sam and Dean aren't wearing any, you aren't yelling at them."

In a single synchronised movement, the brothers pulled down their respective collars to show the matching tattoos on their chests. Alison frowned.

"Okay, fine. It was a mistake, won't happen again. I think I might get one of those tattoos, though."

"If your dad finds out that I let you get influenced to get a tattoo, he will kill me, you know that."

"I know, Bobby," Alison laughed. "I won't tell him if you won't."

"Well, I guess if you guys are okay, Sam and I better get going. It's been real nice getting to know ya, Alison," Dean said with a sigh as he drained his coffee and stood up.

"Wait, you guys can't just leave," Bobby told them. "Alison is going with you."

"What?" Three voices chimed in unison. Alison and the brothers exchanged glances.

"You heard me. Al's dad is still gone. I can't stay here because I'm in the middle of a hunt and took more time than I should've to come up here in the first place. Alison, I know I'm not your dad, and boys, I know I'm definitely not yours. But you guys are going to stick together, alright?"

"Well, the more the merrier," Dean replied with a grin in Alison's direction. She smiled back and turned to Sam.

"You okay with me tagging along?"

"Of course, Alison," Sam replied. "The more the merrier." He smiled at her, and for a second as she smiled back, he forgot that there was anyone else in the room.

* * *

After saying their goodbyes to Bobby, Sam and Dean waited downstairs while Alison went to pack, Dean warning her as she disappeared that he didn't want tons of 'girl stuff' cluttering up his car.

"So, you like her." Dean was nothing if not blunt. Sam crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the floor, hoping that if he ignored Dean, he would drop the matter.

No such luck, of course, when your brother is Dean Winchester.

"Sammy. Come on. What the hell was that about, man? Listen, puppy is not the way to go. She already thinks you're cute, I can tell."

"Dean, stop."

"No, seriously, you need to get laid, as much as I really dislike getting involved in my baby brother's sex life. Alison's hot and she thinks you're cute. Go for it man."

"I said stop it, Dean. Getting laid, as you put it, is the last possible thing I need to think about right now. In case you don't remember, I'm kinda busy trying to keep you from going to hell. Maybe you just want to think about your dick, and I don't blame you for that if we can't find any way to fix this. But I need to focus on saving you, okay?"

Dean leaned against the kitchen doorframe with his hands in his pockets, and a faint smile slid across his lips.

"You don't need to focus on saving me, Sammy. You need to think about you, too, after I'm gone."

"I will think about that if I ever have to," Sam forced out between gritted teeth. "Until you're cold in the ground, Dean, I'm going to do anything I can to try and save you."

"Sam-"

"What're you boys fighting about?" Alison slid down the banister to land lightly at the foot of the steps, a messenger bag slung carelessly over her shoulders.

"Nothing," Sam and Dean said together. Dean threw Sam a 'we'll talk this over later' look before turning to Alison.

"That's all you're bringing?"

"No. This is all the clothes I'm bringing." She walked over to a closet and hauled out a duffel bag. "These are my hunting supplies."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at her. "You think you're going to be hunting?"

"Of course," Alison replied loftily. "It's in my blood, same as it's in yours. I'm a good hunter, same as you. I've been a part of this since I could walk and talk, as I'm sure you were as well. I'm not just going to sit in the car if I can help you guys."

"We'll talk about that later. Anyway, Sam and I already had a reservation at this place in Minneapolis. Sammy's got the number, you can get yourself a room near us; we're in 307."

The drive was actually pleasant; after a few questions about their tattoos, and how long they had been hunting, Alison dropped off to sleep in the back seat, curled up against her bag. Dean made a joke about how like Sam that was- the ability to pass the time in the car by falling asleep almost on command, to which Sam's reply was to call him a jerk. As Dean laughed and called him a bitch in return, just like the old days, Sam decided to let their argument from earlier drop.

* * *

Later that night, Dean was doing his favourite thing in the world: standing at the bar, doing shots while surrounded by a small group of drunken college girls who thought the sun shone out his ass. Sam was sitting alone in a booth on the other side of the room, looking up from his beer every few minutes to make sure Dean hadn't wandered off. He didn't know where Alison was; he half assumed that she was with Dean, but he was trying not to care. Of course Alison had to be exactly Dean's type; he was probably hers. He was every girl's type, it seemed, since there was no shortage of women throwing themselves at him no matter where they went. Me? Bitter? Never gonna happen, Sam thought (bitterly), taking another swig of beer.

"So you're not going to stop your brother from acting like an idiot?" Alison slid into the booth seat beside him. Sam jumped in surprise

"Dean does what he wants to do. Anyway, I'm letting him enjoy himself while he can," Sam told her before he could stop himself. Fuck.

"Why? What's going on with him?"

"It's…a long story." Sam looked down at his beer, hoping that if he tried to ignore her she would leave it alone. He didn't want to tell her about what had happened before Dean made his deal; even Dean and Bobby thought that he was a freak, even if they didn't say it in as many words. How many times had Dean said 'what's dead should stay dead'? Alison- as great as she was, and as much as Sam liked her and wanted to get to know her- would think the same thing. And she didn't have the ties to him that Dean and Bobby did. He knew, though, that if she decided to press the matter, he would have to tell her.

And of course, she would press the matter. It was just his luck.

"We do have all night while Dean enjoys himself with his bimbos," Alison pointed out with a smile. She slid an arm through Sam's, and gave him a puppy face. "I like long stories, c'mon."

"It's a hard to believe story. And it's not really a nice one. And you're probably not going to want to hunt with us after hearing it."

"Try me." She held his gaze seriously for a moment. "I'm not some fragile little girl. I know a lot about the world that normal people wouldn't. Hell, you guys helped rescue me from demons earlier today; I have absolutely no illusions about how shitty the world is."

Sam sighed. "Well, it started in 1983, when a woman named Mary Winchester was killed by a demon." He paused as Alison made the connection. "That's how the 'family business' got started, as it were. My dad discovered what killed my mother, and he made it his life to hunt this thing down. What he didn't know at the time was that the demon wasn't after my mother; it was after me." He stared at the wall. "We- my brother and I- only found out after my dad died. The demon, he fed me blood. There were a bunch of kids, like me, that he did the same thing to. We all developed powers because of the blood… I got visions from time to time. Another guy I knew, he could influence people to do anything just by telling them. There were lots more of us, I never met them all. But a few months ago, he took us away a few at a time, how I'm not sure, but he took us to this town, and it was like Survivor, only instead of being voted off, we had to kill each other." Sam paused again. Alison hadn't taken her arm away from his, and she wrapped her other hand around his and squeezed.

"But you're okay. You got out. You wouldn't do that."

"That's true; I never killed anyone- I tried to get us all out. But I didn't get out." He looked at her, jaw clenched. "I lost. I died. It came down to me and someone else. Dean had just found me, and the other guy stabbed me in the back as I was running to my brother. I died. And Dean…he made a deal with a demon to bring me back. That's why he doesn't have long. He sold his soul to save his demon-infected little brother."

"We can find some way to get him out of it though, can't we?"

"Dean and Bobby and I have tried everything, looked everywhere. I even called the demon back and threatened her and even she couldn't do a thing."

"Maybe I can help. We can find something-"

"We've been looking for months. Dean is living each day like it's his last, and since he actually knows when he's going to die, I can't really fault him for it. So I just look after him to make sure he doesn't die sooner than he has to, and make sure he's as happy as he can be. And after he's dead, I'll hit the road again and just… wait to join him, I guess."

They fell into silence; Alison laid her head on Sam's shoulder, and Sam took a long swig of his beer. Just like Dean, he thought to himself. They sat together for a while, in silence, alternating sips of beer.

"You know…" Alison hesitated. "This isn't something you need to do alone, Sam."

"Of course it is. Dean is all I have; he and my dad were all I ever had."

"That can't be it, Sam. There will always be people to care about you." She tilted her head, and when Sam looked down at her, their faces were just inches apart. "I've been missing something from my life for a long time, and I think meeting you and Dean is exactly what I needed. I will do everything in my power to try and help you save Dean, Sam, and if there is absolutely no way, then I will get you through whatever you need to get through," Alison whispered, brushing a gentle kiss onto Sam's cheek, dangerously close to his lips. "I promise."

"Sammy!" Dean's shout from across the room broke the moment, but Sam took one final lasting look into Alison's eyes before looking up at his brother. Dean was stumbling, leaning heavily on two girls who looked almost as drunk as he was. The three of them made their way over to the booth, and Sam noticed the bartender glaring angrily at them.

"The bartender says we've had too much to drink," the blonde giggled.

"I will be escorting these lovely young ladies up to the safety of my hotel room, Sammy. Don't wait up for me." Without even waiting for an answer, they lurched off and out the door, Dean throwing a jaunty wave to the now scowling bartender. Sam let out a chuckle at the sight of Alison's face.

"Did he just tell you not to wait up for him, when you guys are sharing a room?"

"Um, yeah, he does that sometimes. It happens more often lately than usual, of course. I just go sit in the car until he tires himself out, then show the girls the door and put him to bed."

"And he's supposed to be the older brother? Jeez." Alison shook her head in disbelief. "Well, no car for you tonight, mister. You're going to stay with me."

"The car's fine, it's got nice big seats-"

"Sam?" she cut him off. "This isn't up for debate. I'm not letting you go out to sleep in the car while your drunken brother has all the fun. Come on." She dropped a twenty on the table and pulled Sam upright.

Alison's room was one door down from Sam and Dean's, and as they came up to Dean's room, Sam was very glad that they wouldn't be sharing a wall. He and Alison had to stifle their giggles as they half ran past the door. Sam realised belatedly, as she let go of his hand to unlock the door, that she had been holding his hand since she pulled him up from the table.

"As if this day can't get any crazier…" he muttered to himself. He had started the day not knowing who Alison Wentzell was, and now he was going back to her hotel room.

"You know, Dean was interested in you this morning, and I told him to back off so Bobby wouldn't kill him," Sam said conversationally as Alison led him inside and flicked on the lights.

"Oh, so that's what he meant when he was talking about pissing Bobby off," she said with a laugh. "What makes you think anything's going to happen to make Bobby mad now, hmm?"

"I don't," Sam said, blushing. "I'm just saying that Dean is going to make assumptions in the morning, and Dean has a bit of a big mouth."

"Your brother can make all the assumptions he wants, you aren't the one in bed with two cheap harlots you met in a bar."

"No, but I am in a hotel room with a girl I only met-" Sam checked his watch, "fourteen hours ago. A hotel room in which there is only one bed, which I only just noticed, by the way."

"That's okay. We're not doing anything tonight, anyway, Sam. It's almost two. We need to be awake enough to haul your brother out of bed in the morning, find something to eat that will not make him puke in the car, and get halfway to that place in Lewiston tomorrow." Alison was flitting around the room as she spoke, and then ducked into the bathroom to change. She returned wearing shorts and a loose t-shirt with the Ghostbusters logo on it. Sam smirked, and she laughed, and the slightly tense atmosphere in the room lessened.

"Yeah, I guess," Sam agreed, and then his mind began to wander. Not doing anything tonight? His mind raced with the implication that she wanted something to happen later, and then he shook the thoughts away. Bad Sam, he told himself sternly. "Toss me a pillow or something."

"Why?"

"So I can go to sleep?"

"Sam Winchester. I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor, get up here. I'll be good, I promise," Alison said, hopping into the bed and patting the spot next to her. "You're not going to sleep well on the floor and I don't want anybody cranky tomorrow."

"Alright," Sam sighed. He kicked off his shoes and sat down next to Alison, sliding stiffly under the covers. He lay down and folded his hands behind his head. He didn't think he would be able to sleep, but as Alison snuggled up against him, he drifted off happier than he had been for a while.

* * *

**AN**: This is my first attempt at a full-length Supernatural fic, so any comments would be great!


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